Forever & Always
by bieberfulsophie
Summary: Sarah Campbell: She's smart, clever, attractive, and no ordinary fan girl. Will sparks fly when she meets her one and only idol, Justin Bieber? Or will it die down with all the hate, lust, and jealous drama that comes in between them? Find out!
1. My Life Is Blah

**SHORT INTRODUCTION/SUMMARY:**

**Sarah Campbell: she's smart, clever, and very attractive; even though her humble, down-to-earth-self, has never admitted it. At age sixteen, she's bound to have many obsessions: clothes, denim, and her favorite books. But all of that couldn't compare to the obsession she had, with her one and only idol, _Justin Bieber._ Of course she loved his amazing voice and gorgeous looks-but she was _no ordinary fan girl._ She deeply admired his personality and talent. He was one thing that'd always make her happy: but due to her parents' recent divorce and her dad's horrible remarried family, her self-confidence she once had, was fading quickly; and the terrible treatments she has been getting, didn't make her feel better about her insecurities atall. So when she gets the opportunity to get to meet him, her life is complete. Will sparks fly the moment Justin sees her? Or will it die down with all the hate, lust, and jealous drama that would change their lives forever? Find out!**

* * *

My head ached severely from twisting and turning for the past thirty minutes. I glanced up at my cherry-red alarm clock, newly bought from the electronic store. 10:36 P.M. Ugh, still no sleep. _C'mon, Sarah, you can do this. Tomorrow is going to be the best day of your entire life, _I eagerly thought to myself._ It's not going to be great, when you wake up with a migraine while meeting the most amazing boy in the world_. All right, no more funny business.I moved my legs to the colder side of the blanket, and closed my eyes fiercely: forcing them shut. I stiffly moved to the edge of my king-sized bed, covered in my exclusive customized Justin Bieber bedding, and stayed in place, not moving an inch. _Just think, Sarah, if I quickly slept now, I would wake up happily in the morning eating breakfast, knowing that just hours away, I would be at the meet 'n' greet, with my bestfriend, Tory. _I dented my head into my pillow a little deeper, took a deep breath, and let out a big, reassuring sigh. And with that, I began resting. A few moments passed: I was now in my halfway state, I wasn't completely asleep, but I wasn't completely awake. _Almost there…_and followed by that thought, was my mental state of happiness. Deep, sleep.

I felt a refreshing breeze through my hair. I opened my eyes, only to discover darkness all around me. The cold air stung my cheeks and my nostrils, but strangely, I liked it. I stared up at the sky and noticed all the stars surrounding me; it was amazing. I've never seen so many in my life, especially living in Los Angeles, where you're lucky to even spot one. I felt another breeze against my body, followed by silk brushing against my arms and wrists. I then realized I was barefoot and in my nightgown. I bent down and felt grass with my palms and toes. I was on a mountain? It was scary being in such a dark place, only seeing stars. It felt nice, but at the same time, dangerous. I was never scared of the dark, just scared of what was in it. At that moment, I heard something like a twig snap behind me. My stomach churned and suddenly, I felt chills run down my spine. I was completely still and waited for a while before taking a brave step forward. I then realized just when I put my foot down, that there wasn't any grass there. It was too late to even think, because before I knew it, I was falling in midair: my hands, grasping handfuls of dark, navy blue sky, and feeling the cold air in it. I was scared, so I tried screaming, but my dream was mute. I couldn't hear my own scream. What was going on? I kept falling for a few seconds more, expecting to reach the ground by now, but instead, was startled by a frightening jerk.

I was wide-awake by now, inhaling deeply, and checking my body to see if I really hit the ground. I hated these types of dreams. I hated falling dreams. That's what I would call them, because I would often get them, only when I was forcing myself to sleep. I got out of my bed and threw on a pair of sweats and a big, baggy, t-shirt. I quickly, but quietly, tiptoed down the stairs, so I wouldn't wake up my mom, or little sister, Kylie. I plunged into my slip-on vans, and ran out the door. It was pretty late to be going out for a run, but I knew it would make me feel better and tired, so I wouldn't have to force myself to sleep, again. One block. Two blocks. Three blocks. I still wasn't tired. I had to keep going. Running was something I secretly liked to do. Something my dad was probably good at. Running away from problems. I, on the other hand, would be proud to say that I've always faced my problems, instead of running away like my cowardly dad. Okay, maybe sometimes I would run away from my problems, but most of the time, I had no choice but to boldly face them. And by the problems I'd be obligated to face, were big things: like schoolwork, my stuffed animals, and tests…Okay, so I'd have to admit, they aren't really big problems to face, but in my mind, they were. I also had this fantasy of being normal, whatever that meant. I'd be this super, confident, brave girl, who would have a normal family, a normal life, and normal circumstances. Ha-ha. Like that would ever happen in a million years. My life wasn't even close to normal. I had divorced parents, my dad's annoying remarried family to deal with, and a lot of insecurities and expectations to carry on my back. Sure, I'm happy, content, whatever you'd like to call it, with my life, but I've been carrying an empty feeling in me for years. Like, no one loved me. Sure, my mom loved me, but my dad…he probably wouldn't care if I were gone. All he cared about was his new family, and his new daughter, who was a lot prettier, tanner, and boy-attractive, than me. I'm sixteen, and I've never had a single boyfriend, unless you'd count a kindergarten romance, that involved a 64-pack crayola crayon collection. Yeah, I didn't think so either. I would have a boyfriend, but honestly, all the guys at my high school are such dicks and tools. All they wanted to do was get inside every single girl's pants. I reached the eighth block, which meant, I ran all the way around the neighborhood, and back to my house. I was still panting when I got up to my porch. I desperately needed water. I drank my glass, and trudged up the stairs. I was sweaty, and gross, but I didn't care. I was exhausted. I fell onto the bed, and this time for real, fell deep asleep.

* * *

"Sarah, it's time to go," my mom said, leaning against the doorway, watching me get ready from the mirror, "We're going to be late picking up Tory, you know?" my mom eyed me and glanced down at her watch again.

"Mom, please, I need more time for this. It's important that I look decent today, you know?" I emphasized her exact words, "Just a few more minutes?" I pleaded.

"Fine. I'm giving you five minutes. I expect to see in the garage two more after that." She left my presence and gently closed my bathroom door, covered in Justin Bieber posters. I looked into the full-body mirror, attached to Kylie's door and examined myself carefully. I was wearing dark-denim skinny jeans, a DKNY top (I know, I was going to wear my Justin Bieber tee, but realized I wanted to be more original, since every belieber flaunts their Bieber merchandise at concerts), and a few hippie accessories from that store, Anthropology. My style was out of the ordinary. People couldn't tell if I was punk, rocker, girly, tomboyish, gothic, or hipster. Oh, well. I didn't care anyways. I liked my style. It made me unique. Or at least I thought it did. I applied a fresh coat of lip-gloss, some brown eyeliner, and pinched my cheeks to add some color. I never used powder or foundation, only because, strangely, I didn't have much to conceal. I rarely got any blemishes or pimples. I was au natural. I stared at myself through the mirror, noticing the excitement in my hazel-green eyes, with a hint of blue surrounding my pupil. I combed through my "baroon" hair (word I made up for people with a mix of brunette and maroon-colored hair), before settling the brush back down on the counter, checking for last-minute retouches, and leaving the bathroom. I ran down the steps, not too quick or too slow, so I wouldn't ruin my appearance before even getting to the concert. I was bursting with excitement and happiness. I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe my mom got me meet 'n' greet tickets for a Justin Bieber concert. I couldn't believe that in a few hours, I would be getting a picture, a hug, and front-row seats, to watch my favorite person in the whole world perform. I hopped into our Lexus, onto the comfortable leather seats, and we drove off. I was so excited to pick up Tory. I ran up to her porch, not able to control my shaky legs, and paced back and forth. The door swung open.

"Tory, are you rea—"

"Hell yeah, I am!" She grabbed my arm and we ran back into the car. The ride there was fun. We listened to all of Bieber's recorded songs, music videos, and even played Tap Tap: Justin Bieber. We finally arrived in a parking lot. We showed the security guard our passes, and they let us in. I felt so significant, getting to cut in front of people. After all, our tickets were the most expensive: like, almost three grand. I loved my mom for this. I was backstage, being lead onto an orchard in the front row. We waited for Justin to come out, but instead his DJ came out to open up for 'One Time'.

* * *

"When I say Justin, y'all say BIEBER!" He yelled at the audience through the microphone. "Justin!"

Tory and I, and the rest of the audience screamed, "Bieber!" as loud as our lungs allowed us to. "When I say ONE, y'all say TIME!" he shouted, "ONE!" –"TIME!" the audience screamed back. This time, Tory and me covered our ears. Boy, the crowd was loud. And with that, the loud music started playing, and Justin began appearing from an up-and-down platform, you know, the one that Miley Cyrus comes out of from the Hannah Montana Movie? His full body was now onstage as he began singing 'One Time'.

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye,

Me, plus you,

I'ma tell ya one time,

I'ma tell ya one tii-ime,

I'ma tell ya one tii-me,

ONE TIME!

He was so close to me. I could see his face, the details in the fabric of his g-star raw denim jeans, his gorgeous brown eyes. He was beautiful. I wasn't screaming, crying, or singing along. I was totally taken aback. I was mute. My eyes were glued onto him, as he traveled across the stage. It was like this until the song ended, and 'U Smile' kicked in. I continued to stare into his eyes, even though he didn't notice me.

Your lips, my biggest weakness… His eyes wandering around the audience while he sang.

Shouldn't have let you kno-o-oooh-oh, as soon as he sang that line, his eyes all of a sudden connected with mine, locking in it so tightly. At least, that's what I felt.

I'm always gonna do what they say-aye

If you need me, I'll come runnin' from a thousand miles awaa-aaay,

When you smile, I smile…I felt like my life was complete. He smiled at me. How did I know it was me he was looking at? Oh, I knew. I knew very well. And he kept staring into my eyes as the song quickly transitioned into 'Baby' my favorite song.

* * *

Are we an item? He smiled while singing again.

Girl, quit playin'

We're just friends?

What are you saa-yin'?

Said there's another?

Now look right in my eyes Ahhhh, he was looking at me again!

My first love, broke my heart for the first time,

And I was like, baby, baby, baby, ooooh….

I felt as if my life was absolutely complete. He looked at me and smiled…four times! The time passed real slowly. Our eyes still locked on each other while he traveled the stage. I think I was spacing out, because before I knew it, the concert was over.

And I'll never let you go…

"Thank you all, I love you!" he blew kisses to the audience and made a heart sign with his hands, and with that, he left the stage.

"Sarah, come on! We're supposed to go backstage now!" she exclaimed with her wide, brown, eyes.

"Let's go" I replied, briefly. I couldn't wait.

We waited in line while other girls got their pictures, hugs, and left. We were next! I felt a swarm of butterflies in my stomach, flying around everywhere, like they were going crazy. I was within 3 feet of Justin Bieber! Somebody kill me right now, and I'd die happy. I grinned at Tory. I could tell she was shaking with excitement as well.

"Hello, ladies," his smile up close made me melt inside, "Where would you like an autograph?" he glanced at his pen for a split-second, and turned back up to us again.

"I-Uh, Um…" I stuttered so badly. He looked into my eyes and laughed a little. My face was turning red and my lips were as dry as the Sahara Desert. An awkward moment passed.

"Right here," Tory cut in, suddenly, answering his question, without a sweat. Thank, God. She took her hand out of her bag and handed him four CDs, her cellphone, and her photo of him. After he was done signing, he handed us the stuff, and smiled again.

"Here you go." He handed Tory the handful of stuff politely and turned his attention to me again. "And you, Beautiful?" He asked in his extra-velvety, sexy voice. Talk normally, damn it! A feverish feeling overwhelmed me.

* * *

"Um, uh, here…" I weakly handed him my CD and iPod touch, for him to sign. I smiled at him while he was signing. He handed them back to me, while he stood up from the chair and the table. "Smile for the Polaroid camera, girls." He grabbed onto both our shoulders from each side and we positioned our selves for the shot. After it finished printing, he handed it to Tory and gave her a nice, bear, hug. Darn, why not me first? She melted into his arms. Suddenly, he turned to me and gave me a hug. For some reason, it wasn't just a hug; it was more like an I-really-actually-love-you hug. Not a hug you give to someone when you first meet him or her. Ugh, get over yourself, Sarah. You're probably imagining it. I expected to let go of him after 2 or 3 seconds, but instead, this hug lasted a pretty long time. Finally, he released me and smiled. Before we turned to leave, he tugged on my arm and whispered in my ear, "You're very beautiful, by the way," he let go and smiled. I walked off, feeling dizzy. Did that just really happen? Or was it in my head again? I caught up with Tory, already getting into the car. I followed right behind her and got in. I couldn't believe what just happened. He hugged me…for 6 whole seconds. That's got to count more than what Tory received…a 3 second, brief, bear hug. The ride home seemed a lot shorter than getting here. I looked at Tory and she looked at me. We were both extremely happy. My mom asked us about the concert, and mostly Tory had to answer. I was too busy, thinking about that hug, how amazingly perfect he was, and if I would ever in my life have a chance with him. He called me beautiful. No one ever has. Sure, some guys would call me hot, but that's not even close to beautiful. Beautiful was what he was. Not what I was. We pulled up into Tory's huge driveway. She got out and waved at me, while she hopped onto her extravagant porch, and into her big-ass house. I missed the days. The days before my dad decided to be an asshole and just leave. Before we moved into a smaller house. Before, when we had an even bigger house than Tory. Not even a house—an estate. But now it was just I, my mom, my sister, and my dad's child support money, and her okay-paying job. It was hard, changing lifestyles just like that. But it didn't bother me too much. It would just bother me, seeing his other family, who isn't even blood-related to him, receive so much, love, the love my dad never gave to me. And seeing his other children being spoiled, and his remarried wife, sucking the money out of him like a parasite—or worse, a bloodsucking leech. And that was exactly what she was. I tried to avoid his overbearing, whiney, new-wife, Margaret. We arrived at my house, just 2 minutes away from Tory's. I hopped out of the car, into the garage, cluttered with all sorts of junk we should've gotten rid of a long time ago. I ran up the stairs and into my room. I threw everything onto my desk. My bag full of Justin Bieber goodies and merchandise, his autographs, pictures, and concert CD, and flopped onto my bed. It was only 5pm, but I was pretty wiped out. So I rested on my bed for about an hour and decided to wash up. I hopped into the shower, threw my dirty clothes onto the floor and rinsed away. After I was done, I got out of the shower, slipped a towel on, and removed my makeup. I walked over to my closet, where my jeans were, lying on the floor. I was about to go into the bathroom again, until I saw a ripped piece of paper tucked into the pocket of my jeans. I lifted it up slowly. It was a note? I don't remember putting a note into my pocket…I opened it up and read it.

Hey, Beautiful. I still didn't get your name. Call me 308-8759

He called me beautiful. Again. I couldn't believe my eyes. He wanted me to call him? I dialed his number on my cell and stared at it for a while. No. This was obviously a prank. Would Tory do something like this? No way. I pressed the send button. I paced nervously back and forth. I should hang up, like, now…my finger hovered over the 'end call' button, but it was too late. Someone picked up on the 6th ring.


	2. Finding My New Favorite Drug

"Hello?" a velvety-chocolate voice asked. It just had to be him. No one could sound so sexy or slightly seductive on the phone. And damn, he had an amazing effect on me.

I lifted the phone slightly away from my face and cleared my throat, so that I wouldn't sound like a stammering idiot. _Harrumph_. There, perfect. I slowly brought my face back up to the phone, still deciding if I should reply. And that's when my inner conscience began speaking to me. _Hang up, Sarah! Hang up while you have the chance to escape…say anything, say you have the wrong number…or just hang up!_

I listened to myself for a moment. I think I took too long to respond, 'cause before I knew it, I heard a muffled, but gorgeous-sounding voice that asked again.

"Hello, is anyone there?" _Okay, now I'm screwed. Just say something, damn it!_ I yelled at myself (_in my mind, of course_), picked up the receiver, and slowly held it up to my face. One gulp later…

"Hey," I replied, trying to keep it cool, and trying my best _not_ to stutter. He was about to speak again until I continued in my 'cool' voice, and cut him off.

"Who's—"

"This might seem silly, and I kind of think this is a prank, but…do you just might happen to be…" I paused and sat down on the edge of my bed, letting a few moments pass. "Um," I announced awkwardly. "Just—"

"Justin Bieber?" he finished for me quickly, using that incredibly sweet voice that made the inside of my ears tingle, in a nice way, of course. The way he said it…was…perfect: like him. I'd imagine he was smiling, smugly.

"Yes, uh-I, you probably don't remember me from yester—" I answered, accordingly, until being cut off, once again.

"Ha-ha, I remember you. How could I forget seeing such a beautiful girl at my concert?" he asked, his voice sounding bright and cheerful, "I'm honored, by the way, that I could call such a gorgeous girl, my fan." At that moment, my heart began beating very fast. He was amazing: knowing always, the right thing to say.

"Well, you know, I never got your name…"

"Sarah," I replied, "Sarah Campbell." I've been obsessed with him for far too long, I had to say something…

I insanely blurted out, "I love you—I mean, and I love your music, and you, and…um..." I heard him laugh a little on the phone. _Why did I have to be such a loser? _I smacked myself on the forehead with my palm.

"Sorry, I'm just really nervous, you know, talking to such a talented person." I said, surprisingly cool and confidently. Would he buy it? Sure, I loved his music and my God, he was amazingly talented, but he was extremely good-looking as well. I wanted to be original, I didn't want to sound like all his other fans, 'Oh my God, Justin you're so hot. I love you!'—That kind of stuff.

"No worries, I get nervous around beautiful girls, _like you_," he replied, in that oh-so-yummy voice that just made me want to die, right there, right then. This conversation was getting way too flattering, so I decided to change the subject to something less nerve-wrecking and nail-biting.

"So, do you usually do…Um, this type of thing?" I asked.

"What type of thing?" the curiosity in his voice made me regret being so straightforward.

"Well, slipping little notes into a random girls' pockets?" I answered; realizing I sounded more flattered and filled with joy, than with hasty suspicion.

"Oh, _that_," he laughed and paused, "Well, are you asking me how many girls I've done this with?" he asked, acting a little tiny bit more serious this time.

"Is that a rhetorical question, or are you really going to make me answer that…" I bit down on my thumbnail and hoped that my answer was clever enough for him to respond.

"Well, okay then…all the girls, including you…none."

"None?" I asked, very surprised. I'm sure he's done this more than one time.

"Yeah, none. When I saw you down in the audience, I thanked God for sending this beautiful angel down to my concert, and into my meet 'n' greet stadium." I could tell he was smiling at everything he said. He was so smooth; it was unbearable.

"Did I ever tell you, that you're an amazing liar?"

"No, but what I can tell you, is that I know _you_ want me, _too._"

I was ecstatic by now, but felt weird since he knew that I wanted him too. How did he know that? Uh-uh, play hard-to-get? NOO. How could I frickin' do that? He was Justin fucking Bieber.

I panicked and quickly blurted out, "You wish, Bieber. Like I said, I'm just a fan of your music, not your extremely gorgeous eyes, lips, or body. Psh."

"Ohhh, I see…playing hard-to-get, huh? I like that. I like how you're not like other fans. You're…. different…"

I didn't know what to say to that…so I let him go on.

"How about, you, me, tomorrow, my house? I'll pick you up after you're done with school?" He asked, even though he knew that the answer was a definite FUCKYES.

"Hmmm…" I put a finger to my lip and thought, even though my decision was made up a million years ago, "I-I don't know…I think I might be busy tomorrow after school."

"Come on, we could have fun, Beautiful."

"All right, fine," I replied, sounding nice and chill, but inside, I was freaking out like crazy, "Hartford High. Be there. Gotta go, Bieber. See ya there." I hung up the phone and jumped around my bedroom screaming my lungs out, happily, of course, not because I saw a spider.

"Sarah! You okay up there? What happened?" my mom asked, yelling from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm great!" I blasted up my speakers and put my biology homework away. I had other things to do…like choosing out what I would wear tomorrow! I played 'Baby' and danced around my room, loving my life at the moment. Once Ludacris's part came on, while I was smooching my Justin Bieber poster near my desk, and my door burst open, with my ten-year old sister, Kylie, who looked slightly disturbed, let alone very happy.

"Ew! Do you _have _to do that here! Andcould you, _please_, turn that music down?" she asked, "I'm _trying_ to study for my history test."

I lowered the volume down by 30 percent.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, Charlie." I replied with a grin that I've had since my conversation with Justin.

"Ugh. I could never get any work done in this house!" She exclaimed, with a frown, and marched out into the hallway, and slammed my door. Usually I would get back at her for slamming poor Justin's face, but I was in too much of a happy mood to get mad right now. I joyfully leaped onto my bed and excitedly screamed into my pillow. I wondered how long these happy-aftershocks lasted. I haven't been this happy in such a long time; I wanted it to last forever. I plugged my cell into the charger, plugged in my earphones, and put 'My World 2.0' on replay. _Tomorrow will definitely be the best day of your life, _I told myself, and with that, fell into a nice, deep, sleep, without any sudden body-jerks, falling dreams, or rude awakenings: just pure, happy, sleep. Justin Bieber was my new drug, and I needed him.


	3. The Rangerover Rescue

"Hey!" Tory shouted, scrambling through the hallway and struggling with her books, "Wait up, Sarah!"

I stopped abruptly, held my textbooks in my hands, and craned my neck towards her.

"Sorry," I said, as she finally caught up to me, "I'm just nervous about my date after school."

"You got a date?" she asked, her eyes widening, "Where? With who?" She asked.

"Justin," I replied, not wanting her to freak out right now.

"Justin, who?" she asked, with beaming curiosity. The bell rang.

"I…I'll tell you later. I have to get to class."

"Fine. But tell me how it goes, 'Kay?"

"Will do," I replied quickly, and sped to class.

English was a total blur for me. I couldn't focus at all. My legs kept shaking with uncontrollable excitement and I couldn't stop thinking about _Justin_, and how amazing this was going to be. There were five minutes left before sixth period was over. I texted my mom, letting her know where I would be. _Finally,_ the bell rang. I walked as quickly as I could out of class and near the parking lot. Maybe he wouldn't show. I mean, why would he? Justin Bieber, showing up at _my_ school, picking _me_ up. I paced back and forth behind the portables, still waiting. _Chill, Sarah, it's been two minutes. Surely he'll be here, right?_ I thought, hopelessly. I spaced out for a few minutes, staring at the buttons on Ruth's new sweater, from afar.

"Hey, look! It's Sarah, the loser who doesn't have friends and stays home all day." A high-pitched voice shouted out from behind me. I knew that voice from anywhere. It was Stella, my stepsister, you know, from my dad's other remarried family? Yeah, it was her all right. The perfect, blond, bitch that just _had _to insult me in any way she could, any chance she got. I fidgeted with my iPhone, watching preppy, popular, juniors, and walk by. I refused to turn around and be humiliated. And at that moment, a shiny, black, range-rover drove into the parking lot, stopping two-feet away from me. Everyone's mouth dropped as the window rolled down.

"Hey, Beautiful," he looked me in the eyes and smiled, "Hope I'm not late."

I was speechless. Here I was. In front of Justin Bieber, smiling like an idiot, so frickin' happy I couldn't even breath. _This wasn't real,_ I thought to myself. _Oh, but it was._

"No, you're just on time. Where to?"

"Mmm. I was thinking my house. What about you?"

"That sounds great," I opened the car door and sat on the comfortable, leather, passenger seat. Girls screamed as he pulled over. "IT'S JUSTIN BIEBER!" I heard a bunch screaming omg's.

"You could have been a little inconspicuous?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Well, I am wearing my hat and ray bans, aren't I?" yeah, he was, and he looked super sexy, as always, in them.

"Yeah, yeah, just drive." I smiled widely, and he smiled back.

The car ride was beautiful. We drove into Beverly Hills, and stopped in front of a huge, gold-iron gate, in front of a huge, beige-colored house. _This must be where he lives, _I thought. He rolled down the window and popped his head outside; allowing the sun, shine onto his gorgeous, brown, hair. I took notice of what he was wearing: g-star white denim jeans, his favorite 'hooligans!' t-shirt, his black, sexy raybans, purple hat, and purple supras.

He pressed the intercom button. "Hey, George, it's me." The gate slowly popped open, revealing a nice water fountain, and line of classy-rose bushes, leading another path of pebbles towards the house.


	4. Moved to JustinBieberFanfiction

**If you haven't noticed, I moved.**

Hey, guys.

I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this fanfiction since it's been dead for quite a while, but I'd like to provide a link to the continuation of this story.

I'm actually not sure why it didn't get deleted yet on here, but..

Anyways, here's the link!

Type in **JustinBieberFanfiction(dot)com/**

**?sid=398&chapter=1**

I will only continue it when I get 10 reviews,

so spread the word, review, and keep reading!

This was my announcement, and sorry if I bothered you (:


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